


Airport Regrets

by LananiA3O



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Airports, Batfam Bonding, Gen, don't have time for more tags, my flight boards in 15 minutes lol, security checks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 16:22:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13193916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LananiA3O/pseuds/LananiA3O
Summary: Bruce decides to take a normal flight (albeit first class) rather than his private jet for this years family vacation. He regrets it the moment they hit the security check.





	Airport Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> Written at the airport. Posted at the airport. Real Life writes the plot. Batfam fluff. Enjoy.
> 
> Now available in Chinese, thanks to the amazing huanglading! You can find the Chinese version here:  
> http://stjianglin.lofter.com/post/28576a_12992330

“This was a terrible mistake.”

Bruce surveyed the scene in front of him with quiet, ever-growing discomfort.

 _Perhaps it would be prudent not to take the private plane this time_ , Alfred had said _. It will teach the children some humility,_ Alfred had said. What _on Earth could possibly go wrong_ , Alfred had said.

Bruce was never ever  going to take Alfred’s advice about these things again.

Barbara was the first to go through the security check-in, that much they had been able to agree on. She had her wheel chair after all, which needed to be scanned and tagged separately. Much to the security ladies delight, her backpack fit the luggage restrictions for cabin luggage to a millimeter. Her shampoos and perfumes were travel-size and sealed in a perfectly clear, re-sealable bag. Her phone and tablet were out and on a separate tray before anyone could even ask for them. The scanner gave not a single beep, because her wheel-chair was made of the most durable plastic and ceramic mixtures on the planet.

Bruce felt strangely proud – Barb was not his child after all, although he had had the adoption papers ready in his desk for years, in case Gordon ever died in the line of duty – and for a moment he even allowed himself to think that  this might be done and over in just a few minutes.

Then Stephanie stepped up.

She wasn’t his child proper either, a fact that half his children gleefully loved to remind him off every time family events came up, and so he had ended up inviting her, too. She beamed at the security attendant with her most radiant smile, then started dumping her belongings in the boxes. Her coat. Her jacket. Her scarf. Her other scarf. Her belt. Her second belt – why on Earth would anyone need two belts? Her bracelets. All fourteen of them. Her necklace. Her earrings. Her first liquids bag. Her second liquids bag.

“Miss—“ The security lady, clearly wise from years of shenanigans, stopped her instantly. “One bag per passenger only.”

“But I—“

“No exceptions. Not even for first class.”

Steph looked back at him with the biggest pair of puppy dog eyes he had ever seen on her. Bruce shook his head.

Stephanie held the look a little longer, then sighed and tossed Jason her bag. He caught it with one hand and grinned at her. Stephanie grinned back. Then, to Bruce’s abject horror, she procured a second bag  and tossed it at Tim. It bounced off his head and into his crossed arms, startling him to consciousness and a loud yelp.

“Make yourself useful, snorlax,” Steph stuck out her tongue. “And don’t you dare lose that bag.”

Tim inspected the item with a quizzical look, then promptly returned to sleeping on the spot. Steph took that as approval, then took her phone from her handbag and laid both in the last box. She all but pranced through the scanner, only to be stopped immediately. The machine beeped loudly. An attendant came and waved her over.

The first time the scanner went off was near her head. Steph frowned, then took off her headband. The one with the shiny metal pearls. The second time was near her waist. Steph lifted her top and sweater to reveal a belly button piercing that Bruce was sure had not been there two days ago, the last time he had seen Steph. He swallowed the complaints that threatened to claw their way out of his throat – _it’s unhygienic, it’s dangerous on patrol, it’s ugly, it’s mutilation, what are you doing to your body, young lady_ – and waited for her to remove all her rings and the ankle bracelet she had forgotten. Behind him, people started groaning. Just in front of him, Damian let out that trademark sound of his that sounded like he only just remembered to bite back an insult just in time.

“If we miss this plane because of Brown, she is never welcome to family events again.”

“Damian!” Bruce made sure to keep his voice sharp, but low. Truth was, he did not know what to say. At least not without half-heartedly agreeing.

Cassandra came next. Her clear bag contained exactly one item – the jasmine perfume Alfred had given her for Christmas just a few days ago. She hushed through the security check quickly, retrieved her bag and little purse, then unfolded her headband just enough to let Bruce catch a glimpse of the tiny, ceramic knives and lockpicks sewn into the fabric.

Bruce was sure he paled at least two shades. These girls were insane.

Then, Dick stepped up.

His bag contained nothing but the basics. Toothpaste. Body wash. Hand sanitizer.

Each bottle was ten milliliters too big. Dick put on his brightest smile, winked at Damian, and promptly started talking his way around the rules.

They took the body wash and the sanitizer. They let him keep the tooth paste. Bruce had no idea how it had happened. Before he could do so much as blink, Dick mouthed ‘told you I could’ in Damian’s direction and went through the scanner. No beep. Bruce sighed in relief.

The next one up was Jason.

Bruce bristled and braced himself for the worst. Jason was grinning. That was never a good thing. Never. Under no circumstance. This was going to be hell.

“How many knives you think he’s gonna try to smuggle in,” Duke asked as a matter of fact.

“None,” Tim replied over a yawn. Bruce wasn’t sure when he had woken up.

“I betcha ten dollars it’s at least three.”

“Betting is a useless past-time which relies on chance and monetary affluence.” Damian crossed his arms and took a step to the side in a gesture that screamed ‘I don’t know any of these idiots’.

Bruce just hoped it would be few enough not to get him sorted out for interrogation.

Jason grabbed a box, ditched Steph’s fluid back, then his miserable own right next to it, then his jacket.

Then, Jason took out the gun.

Bruce felt the blood drain from his face.

“Sir.” The security lady blinked at him dumbfounded. “This is a gun.”

“I know.” Jason all but beamed at her. Behind the security check, Stephanie giggled. Dick looked on in abject horror. Cass and Barb seemed to be craving popcorn. “And I’ve got all the necessary documentation to bring it.”

He retrieved the papers from his wallet one at a time. One waiver after another. Signed. Sealed. Stamped. The last piece was drowning in tags. The security lady glanced at the papers. Then Jason. This had to be a joke. Jason shook his head.

A second attendant came over. Then a third. They started looking over the papers, examining each inch, then the gun, then the papers again. Jason switched his stance to shift his weight onto one leg, pushing out one of his hips and making as if he were filing his nails. He whistled in delight.

“Can I—“

“You cannot murder your brother,” Bruce cut in immediately.

“Todd deserves it.”

Tim gave Damian a tired smile, then held open his hands to Duke.

After seventeen minutes and eight seconds, the security trio finally approved. The gun was transferred outside the x-ray. Jason smiled, walked through the x-ray without a sound, and retrieved his pistol.

Duke handed over his ten dollars without protest.

Tim went next. He took out his laptop, his tablet, his second tablet, and his phone.

He forgot Steph’s bag.

The briefcase came back. Tim yawned as he took out the bag and placed it separately. He was stopped only one step after the body scanner, where he retrieved two pens, his keys, spare change, a Starbucks voucher, two used tissues and a plastic fork from a number of pockets in his outfit.

“Drake’s habits are gross.”

“Your brother is slightly disorganized,” Bruce admitted in what had to be his understatement of the year. Especially since the growing crowd behind him had now sworn to murder at least five of his children. “Duke, please tell me you have everything sorted out.”

“Yes, sir.”

Duke stepped forward, took out his fluids bag and his phone, then scanned the rest of his backpack. The body scanner hummed quietly. Bruce thanked the Lord on high for his mercy.

Damian stepped up. He had no bags. He had insisted that travelling light was essential. He snarled at the man behind the body scanner, then at the equipment itself when it beeped loudly at his presence.

The scan revealed two little knives hidden between his belt and his pants. Bruce shot him a disappointed look. Cass grinned at him as he sulked off to her, now knifeless.

“You just got lucky,” Damian scoffed, but Cassandra shook her head.

“Your belt. Metal. Knives ceramic. You betrayed yourself.”

That only seemed to infuriate him further. Bruce prayed that the two would not take each other apart before he made it through.

He put his bags in the boxes. Then his jacket and his belt. Bruce felt comfort spread through his body at the knowledge that this was it. He was clear to go. Five seconds from now, this would be over. He turned to head for the body scanner and caught Jason’s smirk just as the security lady reached for his boxes.

“Hey, Bruce! Don’t forget the switchblades you keep in your shoes.”

The man behind the body scanner glared at him in tranquil fury. Bruce sighed.

Sometimes he regretted adopting.


End file.
